


A Girl can Dream

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenni's in love.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Girl can Dream

It is a curious thing how people think that if you are mute, you are somehow also invisible. A disadvantage you would think and yes, occasionally their oblivious attitude can be offensive, but I am used to it now - and often it can be a blessing.

I have been lucky. As the healer in Arthur’s village, I am treated with respect and deference. In other places I may have been accorded less courtesy . I have heard tales concerning healers who were burned or had their heads removed and then placed by their legs in their burial mounds to celebrate victory over evil magic. But as I say I have been lucky.

Arthur is our chieftain - handsome, methodical, astute Arthur, unfailingly kind to me, sometimes less kind to himself and those closest to him. There is Llud, his father, the voice of reason, shrewd, wily, infinitely generous. And then there is Kai………..

How long have I loved Kai? All my life. Loving Kai is as natural to me as breathing. How long have I been in love with Kai? Now that would be telling. Alright, since I had my twelfth summer and he his fourteenth – since the solstice celebrations that year in the big meadow behind the longhouse. A great bonfire was lit, wheels of fire were sent cascading down the hillside and hand-in-hand, lovers jumped through the flames to bring themselves luck. The nubile girls of the village gazed deep into the fire to try and find out the identities of their future husbands. Kai stood on the other side of the flames from me, his arm slung around his brother’s shoulders – Arthur was still a full head shorter though he soon caught up – laughing, dazzling, beatific. Then he caught my eye – not hard since I was staring open -mouthed – and blew me a kiss. And really that has been it ever since.

What do I know about Kai? That he has the most glorious smile in the world. That he is brave and loyal, trustworthy and steadfast. That looking at him makes my heart thud and my stomach lurch deliciously. That when I go to the longhouse to cut his and his brother’s hair, Arthur’s, straighter and heavier, is easy to shear but Kai’s is like trying to sickle fine gossamer thread. That when he wears the black studded tunic I stitched for him it is hard for me to breathe properly. That his ill luck at gambling is legendary. That his bravery in battle is the stuff that minstrels sing about. That he is in love with Arthur – and Arthur with him.

How long have I known? Since five, no six autumns ago. How long have they known? Now, that question has a different answer – and one I cannot supply because I do not think they could provide one either. I can tell you that when I became sure there was a certain episode of resistance. One bright windy afternoon, I took myself off to the woods behind the village, laid down in the russet leaves and sobbed as hard as I did when the flux took my mother. One advantage of being mute is being able to scream to the heavens and yet remain silent. There was also quite a bit of battering my feet and banging my clenched fists against the earth. Not a pretty picture. Suffice it to say, that when I returned to the village in the dusk, I was heartsick and sore all over - but I had accepted the inevitable. Easier to stem the tides down in our estuary.

The thing is that when you watch someone in the way that I watch Kai, there are unmistakeable signs that cannot be ignored if you know what you’re looking for. Funny that I looked in all the wrong directions for so long. Kai only had to glance a little flirtatiously at any village girl for me to grow daggers in my eyes whenever I saw her. I knew that he coupled with a good number of them. I writhed in vexation at night and suffered in silence by day. Around this time too, Kai taught me to write and read. Just in case the day ever came when he called me something other than little Leni I thought hopefully. Arthur was often there too, laughing, making silly jokes, being playfully cuffed by his big brother as he contributed nonsense to the lessons. And still I was blind as well as mute.

Until the afternoon they returned from chasing Garet and Gawain through the forest and ended up challenging, not that pair of simpletons, but their own desires and fears – buried so deep inside that only the horror of death at each other’s hands managed to awaken them. Llud sent them to me to have their wounds tended – and as soon as they tumbled through the door, a bit shamefaced, still delectably muddy, I knew. You can talk about lightning bolts and epiphanies. Nothing like that. Just the sudden understanding of what has been there all along anyway – what you have been too stubborn or too stupid to see. And so off to the woods for me, to weep and clout the lichen.

Life goes on. You can nurse your broken heart as indulgently as you like, but the day comes when moping and wallowing simply become too much hard work. Besides, Arthur and Kai seemed as if they needed all the help they could get. They were in far more danger of perishing from pining than I was. I had been pining for years- it was second nature for me by now. But for this pair of moon-struck idiots……….. I was tempted to pull Kai aside and make big elaborate gestures that meant “Don’t be such a fool. Just tell him. He feels exactly the same.” One afternoon in the longhouse, when I was preparing the evening meal and Arthur sat alone at the table devising some military strategy, I actually wrote “Kai loves you, you luckiest of men” on an old scrap of parchment and then scrunched it up when he asked me curiously what I was scribbling. Another time I thought to leave a pot of fragrant oil in their bedroom – the type I was often asked to prepare for vestal girls who were to be given in marriage. Perhaps that would spur them on.

But I didn’t. I simply folded my hands and waited and suddenly events simply overtook them. Kai came riding home with that bloody bitch Goda pressed against his crotch – and you must know the rest. Let’s just say that for quite a few weeks after Morcant drowned among the lilies Llud often came quietly asking if he could spend the night on one of my unused pallets. Envy and relief did battle within me and finally relief prevailed. I think that it had been even more exhausting for me watching that unrequited passion than it had been for Kai and Arthur enduring it. Certainly by the time I was treating the wounds that poor Kai had been forced to inflict on his brother at the quarry everything was as it should be. Of course, I still wished that it was my mouth Kai crushed so fervently with his own – but if horses were wishes, then not only soldiers would ride.

Enter Rowena. I wasn’t sure for a time how much of a thorn in the flesh she would be for Kai – but, despite Arthur’s flamboyant rescue expedition to Cornwall, he escorted her back to her father and came home still as head over heels about Kai as….well as me. Actually I like Rowena. She’s a bit naïve, but tough and fiery and always kind. Sometimes though I feel like giving her a good hard shake and telling her to grow her hair, wear a few more pretty gowns and flaunt her - admittedly meagre – breasts. The boyish breeches aren’t going to get her too far – in them she’s just pease pudding for Arthur when he’s already eating roast venison at home. But it’s not my place to say so.

There have been a few bad moments over the years. Like the time that Bavick’s daughter decided that she would try and take up residence here and caused all that ruckus outside the longhouse – although if she ever supposed that that particular brawl really had anything to do with her, she was even more self-absorbed than I thought. I seriously detested that one – the best thing that Arthur ever did with her was throw her in that lake. It would have saved quite a bit of heartache if she’d joined Morcant at the bottom. Or when Kai, Arthur and Llud were held prisoner by the Saxons and all we heard was that Arthur had escaped and was attempting some very dubious rescue attempt with Mark of Cornwall. When they finally came home, Arthur rode in with his father – and no Kai. I swear my heart halted completely and I can tell you that the old saying about your blood running cold is perfectly true. It was ice in my veins. All I could think was “He’s dead, I’ll never see that beloved face, that smile again” and then there he was, the bastard – grinning like a maniac and leaping off his horse right at my feet. He’d been behind the others because he was leading the pack ponies that were loaded with the Saxon treasure they’d retrieved. He had the temerity to sweep me into his arms and kiss me in front of the whole village after he’d just scared me halfway to the grave. One of the best days of my life in the end.

Let’s not dwell on those truly desolate days when Kai was held ransom by Cerdig for half our sheep and goats and cattle. Sheep and goats indeed! I have rarely been so incensed. A bit of a dip in the road here for Arthur. Llud thrashed him aloud with his tongue and I with my eyes and my hands. I don’t think he missed any of the furious glares shot at him during those days of Kai’s captivity or the way that his cups of mead and bowls of food were constantly banged down loudly on the table in front of him while Llud’s were served soundlessly, with a smile. But all’s well that ends well they say. Kai came home safe, there was one long hot afternoon when he and his brother disappeared for hours and returned, all sated and dreamy – and I stopped trying to the smash the tableware.

Although it was rather tit for tat when Kai’s long-lost Saxon friend suddenly appeared and Arthur, in turn, suffered his own agonies of doubt. Can I say though, that despite Arthur’s (well-deserved) misery and my rough handling at the hands of that uncouth Cornish swine Mark, my heart sang for weeks afterwards – since Kai showed that I was the only person in the village he trusted implicitly with his secret. I laugh to myself when I think that Kai could have been walking around now being called Bret. How ridiculous! He could never be anything else but our Kai – no Bret could possibly smile like that.

And so we come almost to this warm summer afternoon now – a day of sunshine and swallows, Arthur’s village at its best. But wait – you may be wondering, if during the last few years, I have kept myself close and chaste, as I pined for Kai. Well the answer is a resounding no. Hopelessly in love unto death I may be – but a corpse I am not. What’s the use of being a healer, whose mother taught her how to stop a man’s seed being fruitful, if you don’t use the knowledge for your own benefit? – as well as that of at least half the village. I’m not telling you everything – just the funniest and the sweetest. The former was definitely Barth of Cornwall – fleet of foot and fleet in other ways too, although he seemed to enjoy it well enough. And this time it did nothing to assuage my longing for Kai. I suppose I should have known better – you don’t cure an itch with cyrus leaves. The next day, during their race in Arthur’s Games, Barth tripped Kai- a very bad strategy on his part, since a few discreet hand gestures from me in the kitchen quarters made him a cause of merriment for quite a while after.

And my sweetest time was with…………..Arthur. Now I’ve surprised you haven’t I? But one night last winter, we’d both had a few too many goblets of mead and, in the warmth of the stables, one thing led to another. Actually Arthur is good at pleasing girls – in fact, much much better than good – although I don’t think he realises it. All in all it was just lovely and whenever I think about it now, I feel warm all over and probably blush as well.

One last thing – I do not as a rule cast spells and such. Alright, love potions I do concoct by the cartload for the girls of my village and the surrounding countryside – and some of the boys too. But I much prefer creating medicinal balms, poultices and cures. However in the case of Benedicta – I saw the desolation she imposed on Kai’s face when he thought no-one saw – but, of course, I always see. Let’s just say there are more things that can be done with silly little pieces of blue cloth, other than catching them on branches and mooning over them – (and if those things involve henbane and linden gathered in the dark of the moon then I’m not telling).

So to now. Llud has come out to sit in front of the longhouse and help me shell peas for their evening meal. I love Llud. He is exactly what I would want for a father (and a grandfather for my children one day, but dream on….). My own father I hardly recall – gone, long ago, at the Battle of Ilchester with so many others. It is a very hot day and I have pinned my hair high on my head. Llud is making me laugh with a story about Mark splitting his breeches after a particularly drunken feast day celebration. Arthur and Kai ride in. They have been down at the river bathing (and more I suspect) and they glow – all damp and shimmery in the afternoon sun. Pound, thud goes my heart and lurch, bang goes my stomach. And suddenly I am so gloriously happy - because Kai is so plainly happy. He is grinning from ear to ear. Arthur does his usual swashbuckling dismount and Kai leaps buoyantly to the ground. Ruffling my hair, Arthur tells me that it looks pretty like this. Then Kai snatches a few peas from my basket and I swat his hands playfully away. He is wearing his black tunic and he’s irresistible. I sigh just like a girl hopelessly in love – which, of course, is exactly what I am.

If, in the future, all my wishes were somehow to be granted, what would they be? Well, they’re not too complicated or ambitious. A sturdy warm hut, built near the longhouse, two, no, three blonde sons who have inherited that smile from their father, perhaps a brown-eyed daughter as well. I would be accommodating and undemanding. I would never ask for Kai’s whole heart or for what he was not willing to give. So? Maybe one day………and meanwhile a girl can dream…………..


End file.
